


Take me Back

by hopesave6666



Category: Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis, Martin and Lewis
Genre: Domestic Violence, Feminization, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, Insecurity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 09:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18518299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopesave6666/pseuds/hopesave6666
Summary: Jerry is just a kid who is trying to survive alone after his Pa kicked him out. He tries to make it a lone in the city but  ends up losing his job and his dignity. He knew a boy like him could never survive one night in the streets. Just when he thought of ending this journey and going back home he finds his childhood hero. Nothing is the same anymore.





	Take me Back

The night was slow at Skimmer’s saloon. It was the third and last day of Dean’s contract with the Hell Falls. It wasn’t the fanciest saloon in New York. A decent place wouldn’t have their stools torn with some of its stuffing spilling out or the walls’ paint peeled off showing the brown old paint underneath but they paid him good money for his act and that was good enough for him.

He couldn’t help but to think back at the times when he first started this thing. He thought doing gigs in these places would last for couple of months before he got famous and went to record albums and do gigs at high end places like the Paramount. Well, that was almost four years ago and he’s still jumping from one lousy joint to the other, grateful that someone cared enough to book him for more than one night. At this stage of his life he came to realize that this situation could last for the rest of his life, he could never get discovered by big names in Hollywood and this life of doing acts in sketchy clubs and saloons would last for longer than he planned for. Money wasn’t the best part of this job for sure. It is enough for him to pay for all his normal life expanses but barely enough to enjoy the night life of New York. He can pay for a drink or a dinner for a pretty gal, maybe take her to see a new picture and have a good time. He couldn’t afford spoiling them, not anymore. If he wanted to keep travelling across the country for new gigs he needed to watch his spending. This was a fun thing to do when he first started, still in his early twenties full of energy and ambition. Now, it doesn’t feel as fun as it used to be. There is nothing for him to do in terms of a real job. He tried them all and couldn’t last long in any of them. 

It would be nice if he got to sing some of his Italian songs in front of an interested audience. He would love to sing and not feel like the background noise  for all the chatter and loud conversations. Most of the time he feels it feels like he’s pelting notes for him rather than the customers to enjoy. The customers of these shady places were the immigrants, his people. They ranged from seamen, construction workers, main diggers to whores and fairies. These people didn’t give a slight fuck about his whole existence let alone singing. For them, nothing mattered more than liquor and sex.

After Dean finished his small act he decided to stay longer and get something to drink. It became a habit to finish his work and stay for a drink or two. After two glasses of whiskey and a cigar, the place started to look dull. It was busy no doubt, but people seemed to not know how to have fun anymore. Usually the sound of music made up the mood, but all he could hear was the unpleasant blend of disjointed noises; clatter of metal trays, the whine of the heavy front door opening for new comers, clinks of glasses bumped together in a toast. The crooner’s voice was overpowered with the loud chatter, coughs and laughs every now and then. He didn’t sound nice either. Dean thought his voice screeched when he felt adventures and went for the high notes. He unfastened the first two buttons of his dress shirt. The humidity was near unbearable inside. He could feel the sweat trickle down his forehead. He is sure if the jacket was off he would find two big dump circles under his arms. He swirled the remaining brown liquor. His head throbbed and quite frankly he needed fresh air more than alcohol so he set down the glass then pulled out two fives “There you go”  he said “I’m ending the night young”

The man behind the counter folded the money and placed them in the cashier behind him “have a good day sir” he smiled revealing a set of yellow teeth.

Dean nodded to the man. He messaged his pounding temple, God he needed to go somewhere quiet and dark. This headache was making him nauseous. The Irish crooner was finishing up, mumbling a thank you to the indifferent crowed. He would feel sorry for him if the same thing didn’t just happen to him for the last three days he worked here. You shouldn’t expect much from preforming in front of drunken crowed .With a final sigh he pushed back his stool and stood up.

Suddenly he lost his balance, he felt someone slam against his back. “Hey,” Dean put a hand against the bar.

His half empty glass flied off the counter and the glass shattered to pieces. He straightened and looked over his shoulder to find a young fella little shorter than him, long limped, skinny and wearing a suit two times his size shaken with tears in his eyes.

“What’s going on,” he tilted his head to the side a little then squinted his eyes

The dimpled chin and the big hazel eyes were familiar then it all came back to him. It’s the same kid he used to see at his friend’s diner couple of years ago. Back then the kid was much shorter with longer hair and gaped smile, always with a small plastic bag of his premade lunch. Whenever Dean asked why he bothered coming if he already had food, the kid would fidget in his seat as if it was embarrassing to confess that he liked to drink strawberry milkshakes. Since then he bought him milkshakes whenever he happened to meet him at the diner. They weren’t the best of friends but he liked the kid.

“Jerry! What is going on” dean steadied him when his knees almost buckled “something wrong?”

The younger man was still panting, clothes dishevelled and sweat dripping down his nose.

He pinched his chin up, frowning at the split lip and black eye “who the fuck did this”

Two men around Jerry's age pushed the glass door wide open breathing heavily, he let go of him, scowling

“they did this!” Dean heart felt like it would jump out of his chest. He wanted to break their faces. 

“Paul I- swear “he held on to Dean’s sleeve, still trying to get his breath “I didn’t do anything… they want to b-eat me u-“

“Ok, alright. Here” he pulled him under his arm “I’ll see what the fuck is their problem”

The two took two hesitant steps inside, eye roaming the place and when they saw their target they elbowed each other then made a beeline to the pair. It took them a second to realize the skinny kid who they were chasing was not alone. In fact he was pulled to an older man side. The way he followed them with his eyes made them pause.

“Jimmy” the shorter of the two pumped his shoulder against his friends “I don’t think this is a good idea, that fella looks ready to knock us down”

Jimmy scoffed “fuck ‘em, properly a queer like ‘em”

“He could be his husband or something. Besides, He looks like he have something on him, let’s go we already licked ‘em a good one, I don’t want that fella to stick me with something, that fag is not worth it” Morris pleaded quietly

Jimmy ignored his friend’s warnings, cursing the queer for slapping him in the face. He won’t let that pass. He shrugged his friend and walked to the pair with long strides. Morris followed behind with less confidence, head down and arms folded in front of him. When the two stood before the skinny boy and his…whatever he was, Jimmy sneered at the younger man of the two. The fella let a low whimper, escaping his friends arm to hide behind him.

“I see you found your daddy, fag” jimmy fixed his eyes at the older man with slick hair and smart suit. he was tanned and an inch or so shorter than him. he didn't look that impressive. He can handle him in a fist fight.  

“come here-“ before he get to finish his taunting Dean gave him an upper cut knocking him off his feet then He took two fistful of the asshole’s discolored shirt and shook him

“you better watch your mouth boy” he struck his head when he opened his mouth to speak “you shut the fuck up before I break your jaw”

Morris watched the whole scene play out. He saw the Italian’s enormous hands, they looked rough and strong. God, it must’ve hurt. When the guy pushed Jimmy away Morris took it as his cue to escape. Nothing was worth getting couple of licks from this fella.

“It’s of your best interest to scramble and never show your ugly mug or I’ll mess it up even more for you” When the man didn’t respond, still in a daze, Dean kicked his leg, hard

“am I understood boy?”  he yelled an inch from the younger man face

 the red head cringed back “Yes s-sir”

"Now fuck off and never let me see you again"

Dean watched the man trip over himself in effort to run away. His head throbbed and he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. 

" you have some explaining to do boy" he turned to the still shaken boy "first, you need to come with me"

Jerry couldn't find his voice to say anything so he just nodded his head and followed the older man,  still in a daze, with his head down and shoulders hunched up. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this chapter. I have been writing a lot of stories but didn't have the time or the courage to post any of my work.


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